


Mr Garak's New Trade

by ConceptaDecency



Series: Post-Canon Cardassia Sitcom [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Humour, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Cardassia, Post-Canon Cardassia Sitcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-06-19 06:17:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency
Summary: Julian's got a grooming crisis. Garak is resourceful as always. But at what risk?





	1. Keeping Up Appearances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's got a grooming crisis. Garak is resourceful as always.

He woke in the stillness of the winter morning, naked and still lying on his side. Garak’s arm, clad in pyjamas he recognised from their station days, was draped over him, and his cool, dry breath brushed the back of Julian’s neck. Julian shivered and pulled the blanket up from around his feet, where it had evidently been all night. On a vine outside the window, a barilk lizard trilled for its mate.

Garak stirred and pulled himself closer.

“Good morning,” Julian murmured.

“Good morning,” Garak said into the hair covering the back of Julian’s neck, then sneezed. “Julian, you need a haircut. This length can’t be regulation.”

“Yes, dear,” Julian retorted. “I will just as soon as I find a barber on this planet who doesn’t butcher my hair.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Cardassia has many gifted barbers.”

“Gifted at Cardassian hair, maybe. But they can’t handle anything that’s not perfectly straight. A tiny bit of curl and they’re lost.”

“Nonsense, Julian. Your hair usually looks fine.”

“Thanks for the charming compliment, dear. But that’s because Lieutenant Sabit was cutting our hair. Now that she’s on the _Markievicz_ we have no one.”

“So you’re saying that you couldn’t find anyone on the entire planet better than a Vulcan engineer to cut your hair? I have a hard time believing that.” One of Garak’s legs slipped between Julian’s from behind - _do you want to...?_

Julian decided not to mention that Sabit had trained as a barber before joining Starfleet. No point in spoiling the argument. He hooked his left foot back to stroke Garak’s calf. _Yes._

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You didn’t see me after any of my Cardassian haircuts.” Cardassian men only ever seemed to wear their hair slicked back and, if worn short, bobbed at around ear-length. Julian found the look very attractive on Garak, whose silky hair, like all Cardassian hair, fell back naturally and bounced very satisfyingly with every movement whenever it had any length. It was a look that was impossible for Julian’s hair even with a generous application of product, though. That, and the lack of any facial ridges to keep the hair out of his face, made him look like a drowned afghan hound whenever he’d had a haircut from a Cardassian barber. “The first barber kept asking me how I’d damaged my hair. I don’t think she believed me when I told her it grows this way naturally.”

“She was probably flirting with you.” Garak had plastered himself onto Julian’s back and was trailing a hand down his bare chest.

“Sure she was. She was old enough to be my grandmother.”

“That means nothing. She liked what she saw.” A nip to the neck, exactly where the tenderest scales would have been if Julian were Cardassian.

“Elim, you persist in telling me I’m irresistible to Cardassians,” Julian laughed and ground himself into Garak. “I’m going to get a big head.”

“A big head?” Garak asked the question idly into Julian’s neck, obviously more interested in nuzzling and sniffing Julian than in the meaning of the idiom.

“Never mind, I’ll tell you later. In any case, I think I’ve decided to just shave it.”

Garak’s hand, which had been creeping down past Julian’s belly, stopped cold.

“Shave your hair? The hair on your head?”

“Yes…is that a problem?”

“I’m going to assume that what you’ve just said is a misguided attempt at foreplay, my dear, because you can’t possibly mean it.” Garak’s voice was pointed. “Let’s begin again.”

“I’m serious, Elim. Noor shaved her head a couple of days ago. She says it’s wonderfully cool and easy to take care of. I was thinking of doing the same.”

“Julian. Doctor Al-Ghamdi is a brilliant physician and a charming woman, but you absolutely should not be taking grooming advice from her.”

“What choice do I have? It’s a real problem for us. I can show you a holo of my last Cardassian haircut. It was a disaster.”

“Dear, you’re being dramatic. I’ll cut your hair. If you don’t like it, then you can shave your head. Please.”

Julian chose not to comment on Garak’s accusation that _he_ was being dramatic. Instead, he considered the offer. Garak was good with his hands and anything aesthetic. What did Julian have to lose if he let him try? There was a good chance Garak would actually make him look half decent.

“Okay, fine.”

***

There was something wrong with the rice. Again. Julian was debating whether he should return his bibimbap to the replicator and get something else or just grit his teeth, metaphorically, and swallow it down (after all, plenty of people were going without on Cardassia) when Doctor Al-Ghamdi entered the canteen.

“Julian! Your hair!”

“Hello, Noor. Don’t get the bibimbap. The replicator’s outside parameters again.”

“Thanks, I won’t. Who’s your hairdresser?” She rubbed the stubble on her head wryly. “Wish you’d told me you’d found someone before I shaved my head. Patrick was not best pleased when he saw it.”

“Wasn’t he?” Julian was reluctant to say too much. The haircut had been better than he’d expected, and, upon realising how very desperate some of the Federation personnel were for a decent hairdresser, Garak had asked him not to broadcast too widely who’d cut his hair.

“He didn’t actually say anything directly, but I could tell he wasn’t happy. What is it with men and hair?” Al-Ghamdi narrowed her eyes and grinned. “It was your boyfriend, wasn’t it? He didn’t want you to shave your head.”

Well. What could Julian do? Lie outright to one of his only friends on the planet when she’d asked him directly?

“Yes, it was. But keep it to yourself, will you?”

***

“Julian,” began Doctor Sarto nervously.

“Yes, Fabio?”

“Umm. I heard your boyfriend does hair.” The young man ran his hand through his unruly curls, which were constantly falling into his eyes these days.

“Fabio. My boyfriend is the regional council representative. He doesn’t exactly ‘do hair’.”

Julian liked his roommate and colleague, Fabio Sarto. Quite a lot actually. He was brilliant, eager, and kind-hearted. But he was also young and incredibly intense, and his social skills were not always on point, so he sometimes needed a firm reminder of boundaries. And his puppyish enthusiasm could really get on your nerves sometimes. Julian was completely aware that Sarto was basically Julian Bashir 2.0, and if Julian hadn’t had the self-awareness to realise it himself, Garak was very fond of pointing it out, especially when Sarto did something particularly cringeworthy. So he tried to be patient with the man.

Sarto’s eyes widened in dismay.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! I know he’s an important man. It’s just that I don’t know what I’m going to do with my hair. I’m really desperate since Sabit left.” He was right to be. His hair was absolutely going wild. It had too much body to just lie shaggily down the sides of his head. Instead it grew from his scalp at all angles, too long and thick to control in any aesthetically pleasing way with clips or product, but too short to tie back. “I’d just buzz it, like Noor did, but I don’t think Ekta would like it.”

Eneva Ekta was one of the Cardassian doctors at the hospital.

“Oh! Are you and Ekta finally…?”

“Yes. At least I think so. Actually, I wanted to ask you a few things about how Cardassians date, too. But first I need to sort out a haircut. Ekta was teasing me about needing one today.” He held up a hand when Julian started to interject. “I do know that’s how Cardassians flirt, but I think she was serious underneath it all. And when I told her I was planning to shave it all off, you should have seen her face! She went cold. What is it with Cardassians and hair?”

***

“No, Julian. Absolutely not. I’m not going to become the Federation’s barber.”

“Elim. It’s just Fabio. I’m not asking you to set up shop in Federation HQ.”

“If I cut Doctor Sarto’s hair, who’s next? You know he won’t be the last one. And how did he know I did yours, anyway? I asked you to keep that to yourself.”

“He figured it out, Elim. They all did. It wasn’t that difficult. I stayed over at yours and came home with a new haircut. I know humans aren’t as subtle as Cardassians, but we aren’t stupid.”

“I never said you were, dear. But I know at least one human who could stand to improve his _yerUkt’a_.” A Kardasi word with no direct translation, it meant something along the lines of cageyness or obfuscation, but without the negative connotations. Garak of course excelled at it, but it was all part of Cardassian social lubrication and even the littlest babies were encouraged to be as _yerUkt_ as possible.

Julian sighed. This was just not fair. After a lifetime of hiding his true self, and seven years observing Garak, he actually had taken very easily to the concept upon his arrival on Cardassia. He used it all the time when dealing with Cardassians. But with non-Cardassians, especially his friends and colleagues, it was different. “Elim. You know we don’t do that. It would have been rude to lie to their faces about such a silly thing.”

“Julian, _yerUkt’a_ is...”

“Not lying. Yes, yes, I know. But it would be to them.”

Garak’s face was not currently practicing _yerUkt’a_. His annoyance with human foibles was plain.

“Anyway, Elim, can we move on? They know and that’s that. If you won’t do it for me, will you do it for love? He’s trying to impress Doctor Ekta.”

“Is he? She’d do well to stay away from him and find a suitable Cardassian partner.”

“...why?” Oh, this was interesting. “Don’t you approve of Cardassian-human relationships?”

“I...Julian, there’s a difference between Doctor Ekta’s situation and ours. She’s young. She could make a good match and raise a family. Cardassia needs young families.”

Julian wasn’t even going to get into the question of whether Ekta and Sarto could or should raise a mixed family. They had only started seeing each other, after all. And although he didn’t entirely agree with Garak, he’d considered his arguments, informed by what Ziyal had told him of her experience, about the difficulties mixed-species individuals faced on Cardassia. It was a well-trodden discussion that didn’t need revisiting at this juncture. The other thing, though...

“Is that the problem? Well, Elim, as your doctor I’m happy to tell you that you are still perfectly capable of fathering healthy children, if you want to. All you need to do is find a partner who’d be more…productive after insemination than I am.”

“Vulgarity is unseemly coming from you. And surely you can see that I’d be a completely unsuitable father.”

Julian knew he was winning if Garak was attacking his language and not his argument. “No, I can’t see. You’re good with children. I don’t see why you shouldn’t be somebody’s father. If Cardassia needs babies, I’ll step aside and free you to find a nice Cardassian woman. It’s your duty, after all.”

Garak sighed and held up his hands. “Very well, dear. I see your point. I suppose Ekta has just as much right to make questionable romantic choices as I have.”

Despite the little dig, such a clear concession was rare from Garak, so Julian tried not to smirk too much. In any case, the real victory had not yet been achieved.

“So you’ll do it?”

“One doesn’t necessarily lead to the other, Julian. I haven’t agreed to that.”

“Will you do it for Cardassia? Fabio will be no good to anyone if he’s heartbroken.”

“Fine. Fine,” sighed Garak resignedly. “Bring Doctor Sarto with you tomorrow evening. But nobody else.”

***

Of course everybody else.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will Garak get out of this one? Who'll be more regretful? Is Cardassia worth all this trouble? Will domestic bliss ever be restored? Stay tuned!


	2. The Thick Of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak begins to enjoy his new 'hobby'. Julian's beginning to wish he'd just shaved his head.

“Hardly ever an evening alone together anymore,” grumbled Julian under his breath. It was eleven days in and he was hurriedly clearing the dinner things. Engineer Shimoda was due to arrive for his trim any minute.

Garak was preparing his workspace on the other side of the room and didn’t seem to hear.

***

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” It was nineteen days in, and he definitely, _definitely_ was. 

Garak was a man who liked working with his hands. His job these days consisted of nothing but desk work and meetings all the livelong day, as far as Julian could tell. He’d been spending his creative energy tending the garden and making clothes for Julian, but there wasn’t much gardening to be done in the winter, and given that Julian wore his uniform most days and next to nothing most nights, it was a waste of precious resources to make too many clothes for him. 

“Not at all, Julian. I just believe that if a job is to be done, it should be done properly.” Garak’s _yerUkt’a_ was on point today.

“You can admit it. It’s okay to say you like it. You might be cutting Federation hair, but it’s for Cardassia.” 

“If it’s for Cardassia it doesn’t matter if I like it. You know that.” 

“But you do. When I came in yesterday you were studying that holo of new styles from Betazed. You were positively enthralled. I think you were more excited about it than you were about _A Safer Mistake_.”

“I had found a style that suited both the texture of Doctor Loyis’s hair and the shape of her face. It was merely professional satisfaction. And sadly, enigma tales aren’t what they used to be.” Garak shook his head woefully. 

There was absolutely no benefit to pointing out that Garak was not actually a professional barber.

“Huh. I liked it.” So had most of Cardassia. _A Safer Mistake_ had taken the planet by storm, and everyone was talking about it.

“There you are. That’s because it read more like one of your Agatha Christie stories than a true enigma tale.” 

“What, because Topi isn’t guilty in the end?”

“Isn’t he? I admit I haven’t finished it.”

“Oh.” Julian pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and dragged his hands down his face. “I’m sorry, Elim. It’s so short. I assumed you had.” It was very unlike Garak to take so long to finish a book.

“Not to worry, dear. You’ve saved me some time. Now that I know how it ends, I won’t need to bother. I’ll just read another of your Miss Marples instead. At least they’re _supposed_ to be insipid and shallow.”

“They are cosy, Elim. And I don’t know where you’re getting shallow from.”

“Your Agatha Christie has absolutely no compassion for the victims of these crimes.” 

Julian rolled his eyes. Since when was Garak particularly interested in compassion?

“Uh huh. That’s the genre! You aren’t meant to be devastated. It’s a satisfying conclusion to an injustice. It’s escapism. Maybe _A Safer Mistake_ is so popular because the Cardassian people need a little escapism these days.” 

Garak opened his mouth and was clearly about to say something delightfully provocative and blatantly untrue, like that escapism was un-Cardassian, or that humans were clearly a depraved and savage species if they read stories about murder to feel better, or to further impugn his Agatha Christie with spurious calumny, when the door chimed. 

“Ah, Loyis is here. Could you see her in, dear?”

Unsatisfied, Julian sloped to the door.

***

“My god, Elim, that was amazing,” said Julian when he was able to speak again. It was twenty-two days in and the wall was holding him up, his legs being a little like jelly at the moment. He opened his eyes and looked down at Garak, who was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Julian caressed Garak’s silky head, deepened his voice and batted his eyes. He knew he was a sexy beast when he did this. “What I can do for _you_?”

“Nothing, my dear.” Garak patted Julian’s thigh and brushed himself off as he stood up. “I’m sorry, Julian, I’m afraid I need to go into the city for some combs. If I don’t leave soon the Replimart will be closed.”

“Oh. Okay,” said Julian, who had been looking forward to reciprocating. “Not even a cuddle?”

***

“You should have let me pay,” said Julian, twenty-seven days in. They were strolling through the market district, Garak with a small bag from the barbering supply shop in hand. 

“Don’t be silly, Julian. I can afford it.”

“But so can I. Starfleet gives me a stipend. Why shouldn’t the Federation pay for these things?”

“That’s your money, not the Federation’s.”

“What’s the difference? Anyway, you must be spending a fortune on haircutting supplies.”

“Darling, your society doesn’t use money,” said Garak fondly. “You have no concept of cost or value. How would you know if I’ve spent a fortune or not?” 

Julian frowned, annoyed at being spoken to like a child. “I got used to using money on Deep Space Nine. I always paid my tailoring bills on time, didn’t I?”

“Yes, dear, but I never charged you full price.” 

“You didn’t?”

“Not at all. You always had a special discount. I wanted you in there as often as possible.”

Julian hoped Garak was telling the truth about how much he was spending, but he knew that he was building a bit of an air castle there.

***

“Are those new scissors?” asked Julian, thirty days in.

“...yes. I wasn’t happy with the way the others were cutting.”

“What happened to the pair that you got three weeks ago?”

“They’re in the kit.” Garak gestured vaguely to the large barber’s carrycase he’d recently acquired. “They cut well but they aren’t very ergonomic.”

“Oh? Are you in pain?” A pang of guilt at not having noticed before. 

“No, Julian. There’s no need to fuss. I’m fine.”

“Let me see your hand.”

“There really isn’t time. Doctor Sarto will be here any minute.” Sarto’s hair grew fast. And Ekta was particular, it seemed. And he’d managed to weasel a lot of useful Cardassian courtship advice out of Garak during his last haircut. Even Julian had learned a few things. 

“It won’t take any time at all. I just want to check.” Julian had already pulled out his medical tricorder. 

“I am permitted to refuse treatment, you know,” Garak groused, but he held out his hand for Julian to scan. “As a doctor you are aware?”

“Mmmhmm.” Julian studied the readout. “Sure, normally, but as your doctor-boyfriend the rules don’t apply to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How much longer will Julian be able to stand this?
> 
> Comments and criticism are very welcome!


	3. Curb Your Enthusiasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you think this is getting out of hand?”
> 
> “Don’t I think what is getting out of hand, dear?”
> 
> “You can play innocent, Elim, but you know what I mean. This haircutting thing.”

“Elim, love,” began Julian, thirty-five days in. He sat down on the sofa next to Garak.

“Yes, Julian?” Garak looked up from his holo-tutorial, entitled ‘Fringe Benefits’. His face was a picture of cherubic innocence. A manufactured and wary cherub, of course; Julian never called him ‘love’ in that solicitous tone unless he thought Garak was not going to like what he had to say.

“Don’t you think this is getting out of hand?”

“Don’t I think what is getting out of hand, dear?”

“You can play innocent, Elim, but you know what I mean. This haircutting thing.”

“May I remind you that you were the one who asked me to do ‘this haircutting thing’ in the first place?”

“That’s true.” That was not true. Not precisely. But Julian had learned long ago that pedantry was not the way to win an argument with Elim Garak. “But don’t you think it’s taking up too much of your time?”

“Julian. What an absurd notion!” Garak’s expression was now one of absolute disbelief, as if the very idea was revolutionary. “But, of course, my dear, you’re still learning about our ways. I suppose I can’t expect you to understand that my time is Cardassia’s time.”

Julian suppressed an eye roll. The old ‘you poor naive alien’ argument was charmingly infuriating during conversation, and provocatively infuriating during foreplay, but just regular infuriating right now, when he had a serious point to make. And anyway, Julian was pretty sure he _understood_  the extent to which Garak was willing to sacrifice himself for Cardassia. He just didn’t _agree_  with it.

“Yes, your time is Cardassia’s time. I know. But don’t you think it might be better to...temper your passion a little so you can keep it up for longer? You won’t be able to serve Cardassia if you overtax yourself.”

“I’m merely cutting hair, Julian. How could I possibly overtax myself?”

“Elim. Come on. You gave yourself a repetitive strain injury. I’m having another look at your hand later, by the way. Is there any more pain?”

“It’s perfectly fine, my dear. Good as new, thanks to your tender, loving care,” said Garak, flexing the fingers of the aforementioned appendage as proof.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Garak opened his mouth to argue, but Julian stopped him with a finger and his ‘stern doctor’ expression. “Let me finish. You’ve had someone over for a hair cut almost every evening for the last month. This is in addition to your real job. And you’re doing most of the cooking because you still don’t trust me with Cardassian vegetables. You haven’t had time to just relax in weeks.”

“Julian, any relaxation I may wish to take pales in comparison to the importance of the work. It’s essential labour for the good of Cardassia.”

Julian was beginning to be sick of the very mention of Cardassia.

“Some of it is absolutely not essential! You’re cutting people’s hair who were perfectly happy to go to a Cardassian barber. You cut _Parmak’s_ hair the other day, for God’s sake!”

“That was a favour for a friend. Kelas said he wanted to see what I could do with the scissors.”

“I was there, Elim. He only said that after you’d badgered him all through dinner to let you trim his split ends.”

“And he looked perfectly marvellous afterwards.”

“Well, yes, he did. But it was unnecessary! He’s Cardassian. He could have gone to any barber on the planet and they’d have done a fine job. And he hadn’t bothered to have his hair cut for years before he let you at it!”

“All the more reason I was right to do it! A cherished friend decided to right a wrong, Julian. It would have been positively churlish of me to refuse him.”

“Or, a cherished friend who doesn’t really care much about the issue and has waited this long can wait a little longer. Until you have more free time. Parmak would have understood.”

“It would have been another decade before I’d have been able to persuade Kelas into my chair.”

“Nonsense. You could persuade him any time you like. You’re very persuasive.” Julian slid over and gently pulled the holo from Garak’s hand. Garak only resisted for a moment, then allowed him to take it. “Elim, I’m worried about you. You’re working too much. This is the first evening in weeks no one’s been over for a haircut, and what are you doing? Studying up on,” he glanced at the description on the holo, “‘five funky Federation fringes’. God, are people really wearing their hair this way on Earth nowadays? How do they make it do that?”

“If you’d give me my holo back I could tell you.”

“No. I’m sorry, Elim, but I’m not giving it back. I know you’re enjoying doing something creative, even if you want to deny it...”

“Julian, _yerUkt’a_ isn’t denial.” Well, at least Garak was throwing him a bone. One of the first things Julian had learned about _yerUkt’a_ is that one never admitted to the existence of one’s own _yerUkt’a_ , but occasionally Garak’s desire to educate about Cardassian culture trumped his inclination to strictly adhere to said culture.

“Then you admit you enjoy it.”

“I neither admit nor deny anything.”

“Fine, Elim. Fine. My point was going to be that I don’t want to stop you from doing something you enjoy. But you can’t keep it up at this rate. You are already physically and mentally exhausted. And what about the garden? Spring’s just around the corner, and I know you’ll have a lot to do soon.” It went without saying, Julian hoped, that the food supply was more important than nearly anything else. It was gardens such as Garak’s that had prevented widespread famine last year, even if there had been nothing but kana fruit and Federation rations to eat for a few tight weeks. Garak’s had been particularly productive. The entire neighbourhood had been supplementing their diets with his col root flour and dried kana fruit all winter.

“Obviously I will be working the garden. But there is no one else to cut your people’s hair. If I don’t do it, who will? I’ll just have to manage both.”

“Elim. That would require you existing on about three hours of sleep a night. Literally. I’ve done the figures. Four if you let me do the cooking.”

“Julian, clearly the haircutting will become easier and less time-consuming as I get better at it.”

It did not escape Julian’s notice that Garak would not even entertain the idea of him doing the cooking.

“Four and a half, then. That’s _so_  much more reasonable.” Julian hoped the sarcasm that dripped satisfyingly from his tongue was making its point. “Can I point out that those four and a half hours are for sleep only? I haven’t factored in any other leisure or personal time, unless you want to count eating and basic hygiene.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand, dear,” Garak sighed. “If I can be of service to Cardassia I must. Even if it means my personal discomfort.”

“ _Elim_. It’s like you’re not listening to anything I’m saying. I’m not talking about discomfort. I am saying you will burn out and you will not be able to continue if you keep it up at this pace. Do you understand? If you aren’t worried about your health for its own sake, think about Cardassia. You won’t be able to serve Cardassia if you incapacitate yourself.”

“Mmmm.” Garak raised his eyeridges and pursed his lips. “Even if you are right, what do you suggest be done instead? Should your people be left to shave their heads after all?”

Julian could nearly taste victory. With Garak, ‘even if you are right’ just about meant ‘Julian, you’re absolutely right’. He just had to choose his next words carefully.

“‘My people’ appreciate all you’re doing for them, love, but they would not be unduly harmed if they had to shave their heads.”

Garak snorted derisively.

“But actually,” Julian continued, taking no notice, “I’m glad you asked. I have a better idea. And you might even like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What could Julian possibly have in mind? Will Garak ever agree to it?
> 
> This work is finished and will be posted regularly. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome!


	4. Modern Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's solution to the barber problem prompts an unexpected response from Garak's colleague. Is Cardassia changing too fast?

“The Council recognises Representative Garak. Representative, you have the floor.”

Garak stepped forward and nodded at the council members and his fellow representatives.

“Thank you, Honoured Speaker. Speaker, members, representatives, I wish to address the issue of comfort for our Federation guests.”

“Representative,” intoned Lekem, the Speaker of the Council, inclining her white head in apology for interrupting, “are you speaking of your proposal that the Council sponsor,” she checked her notes, “Jobay Den and Jobay Deysa, a Bajoran hairdresser and barber currently operating a shop on Deep Space Nine, formerly Terok Nor, to travel to Cardassia and train Cardassian haircutting professionals in off-world techniques?”

“Yes, Speaker. Many of our Federation guests are finding it difficult to…”

“It is not necessary to explain your proposal, Representative. The Council have read it and recognise the necessity of good grooming for the comfort and dignity of our esteemed guests, as well as the value in our people acquiring new skills that will serve them in a more open society. It is approved.” She banged the iron gong on her desk. “The Council request that Representative Garak form a committee immediately so that this may be put into place without delay.”

“Of course, Speaker.” Garak inclined his head in acknowledgement and awaited leave to take his seat.

“The Council also wish to go on record thanking Representative Garak for his personal service to Cardassia in attending to our Federation guests, and to recognise the sacrifices he and his family have made while he provides this essential service. The Council emphasise that strong families are the most important building block for the reconstruction of Cardassia, and are sure that the representative’s family will be pleased to have him back at home.” 

Garak was not often surprised. It did not surprise him, for example, that the Council would acknowledge the importance of family. This was a rare but ancient practice. But to acknowledge the importance of _Garak’s _family, that was strange. Mainly because he did not have a family. Everybody knew it. No spouse, no children, no living relatives, scarcely any dead ones, he was famously unconnected. It had been even more of an issue in his campaign than his no-longer-so-secret former job. Officially Mila had been his only relative. Her extensive family had disowned her when she’d become pregnant out of wedlock, as had been the way of things until recently, and so the numerous Garaks still living in the city and surrounding suburbs were no relations of his according to Cardassian law, custom, or practice. And Tain, also not officially a relative, seemed to have dropped out of the sky one day, fully formed.__

____

____

So the Honoured Speaker of the Council must have been referring to…Julian? Julian. Garak’s _Federaji _‘boyfriend’ (the Standard word was distasteful and infantilising, but their relationship was difficult to define by Cardassian standards, combining as it did elements of the first, second, and third stages of courtship), with whom he was not even cohabiting? Garak was of course...very attached to Julian. Okay, he was madly in love with Julian. Garak had not had many relationships, but he couldn’t imagine having feelings any deeper for another being than his for Julian, not that that was any of the council’s business. This was extremely irregular.__

____

____

Certainly all the council members and representatives knew Julian. He’d accompanied Garak to many council events and was a regular visitor to the Council Hall, and their relationship was no secret. But how was it possible that his unofficial partnership, not legally sanctioned by the state in any way, had just been publicly and officially recognised in the Council Chamber? It was positively un-Cardassian. Not only that, he’d essentially just been ever-so-slightly chided, in an official capacity and on the record, for neglecting Julian in favour of service to Cardassia. As if centuries of tradition, of education, of placing devotion to Cardassia above all else meant nothing! Duty to Cardassia came first, before any personal or familial needs, and if Garak was the only one who could provide a certain service, then he must provide it. Of course he hadn’t _wanted _to neglect Julian! After waiting so long to have him, every moment with his dear doctor was precious. So to have his fealty to Cardassia questioned, when all along he would have preferred to spend most evenings quietly at home with Julian, really rankled!__

____

____

Garak could feel indignation rising to his lips and stifled it. This was not the time or place. The Council were waiting for acknowledgement. 

***

Speaker of the Council Lekem was an average-sized woman, but still cut an imposing figure. She was also surprisingly spry, given her age, even when one found her in the undignified act of changing into her outdoor shoes in the antechamber. 

Garak sat beside her on the stone bench. 

“Speaker.”

“Representative.”

“I was surprised at how quickly my proposal was approved. I expected some resistance.” An appropriately _yerUkt _way of thanking a respected political ally. Garak leaned down to unfasten his own shoes.__

____

____

“It was hardly a difficult decision, Representative,” said Lekem imperially. “Of course you’ve seen what our barbers and hairdressers do to _Federaji _hair. A little curl and they’re lost. It’s Cardassia’s shame that we are unable to assist our off-world friends with such an essential task. And the way they were dealing with it before you stepped in!” The façade of formality dropped, and Lekem, who Garak had quite a fond respect for, lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I understand that a few actually shaved their heads. What is it with _Federaji _and hair?”____

_____ _

_____ _

Garak nodded. 

“Indeed, Lekem. I have noted that the capacity to appreciate aesthetics is unevenly distributed amongst Federation species. Humans in particular. Some seem to consider their outward appearance entirely unimportant.”

“You would know, Garak. Though Doctor Bashir seems to have a rather better developed sense of aesthetics than many of his people.”

“Thank you.” Garak bowed his head slightly. “It’s certainly gratifying to know that others recognise Doctor Bashir’s uncommon sense of aesthetics.” 

Lekem’s patrician mouth curled up at the edges a little and she made what might have been described, if it had been made by a less august person, as a soft snort. 

“Ah, perhaps that’s your influence. In any case, I hope we’ll see more of Doctor Bashir here in the Hall now that you have more free time.”

The hospital and the Council Hall being close together in the old city, Garak and Julian made a habit of meeting for lunch at one or the other’s place of work whenever possible. Julian was a familiar sight in the Hall, or at least he had been until Garak’s new responsibilities had necessitated him working through meals the last month or so in order to free up the time in the evenings for haircutting.

“Undoubtedly, Lekem. Perhaps later this week.”

“Good.” Lekem had removed her indoor shoes and set them neatly in their designated place beneath the bench. She sat up, poker straight, and fixed Garak with a stern gaze. “Because I meant what I said in there, young man. Strong families are essential to Cardassia’s future, and no Cardassian is excepted from their responsibility in this. Yours may be small and unconventional, but your family is no less important than anyone else’s and you must not shirk your duty to it.”

It wasn’t that Lekem was infallible. Wise and imposing and his elder by many, many years, yes, but she’d been wrong before, and Garak hadn’t shied away from arguing with her. But just now he felt he was being chastened like a child caught with his fingers in the kana jelly. Could Lekem be right? He bristled.

“Speaker, I’ve been accused of many things, but never of shirking my duty to Cardassia.”

“You misunderstand me, Garak. Only a fool would think that of you. Your dedication to Cardassia is well-known. But duty has many aspects, and at...times of dramatic change, it is useful to re-examine which to prioritise.” Lekem had drawn her outdoor footwear, a sturdy pair of leather boots still necessary for navigating the broken streets of the city, from underneath the bench. She slipped her feet in and leaned down to fasten the elaborate metal fastenings.

“Yes, but what Cardassia needs will only be achieved with hard work. From everybody. No true child of Cardassia is sitting idle at home every evening. We must all sacrifice for the greater good.”

“Garak. The Federation maintain an ancient practice known as ‘work-life balance’ which I’m sure you’ve heard of. I believe it originated on Earth.”

“I had no idea you were so well-versed in Earth customs, Lekem,” said Garak, who was not fond of direct answers. Of course he was familiar with the concept. It had been Julian’s favourite way of defending the hours he spent in Quark’s holosuites. 

“We would be foolish not to learn as much as we can from the off-worlders. This concept of separating work from the rest of one’s life has some merit. The humans maintain that doing so allows one to perform one’s job with more efficiency. Although once the children start arriving you may find your home life more work than your job.” Lekem smiled sadly. Garak recalled that all but one of her seven adult children had died in the war and its aftermath, and that she was raising a pair of young great-grandsons who had lost both parents when their house had collapsed in the Dominion barrage. “Though perhaps human children are easier than Cardassian.” She stood, the consummate politician, and nodded politely. “In any case, Garak, don’t confuse the romantic notions of sacrifice you read about in books with real life. What a broken people we’d be if we all took _The Never Ending Sacrifice _as an example to follow. Please give my regards to Doctor Bashir.”__

____

____

Lekem had glided out of the antechamber before Garak could muster a rebuttal. He blinked and looked down at the indoor shoes that were still loose and unfastened on his feet. There was a speck of dirt on the toe of his left shoe. He leaned down to rub it off. Some things remained important.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not necessarily convinced that Julian and Garak want to or should become parents, but I was quite taken with the idea that Cardassians are obsessed with babies as described in myrna123's story [Weight Worth Bearing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6575704/chapters/15044695), and that's why Lekem assumes Garak and Julian will have kids. If you're a fan of post-canon Cardassia you've probably already read it, but if you haven't, go read! You're in for a treat! 
> 
> _Federaji _is the Cardassian work for Federation, I believe originated by the legendary[ tinsnip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinsnip/pseuds/tinsnip/works?fandom_id=8474), and I hope I'm using it properly. __
> 
> Comments and criticism will be welcomed as part of the family. For better or for worse. I love that shit.


	5. Perfect Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gossip is unreliable, but any trained gatherer of intelligence knows never to dismiss it outright.

Julian had said that the power at work hadn’t cut out for weeks, so Garak risked the lift. The hospital cafeteria was on the top floor, Julian was already waiting, and they hadn’t met for lunch, well, since he’d started cutting hair. He nodded at two very green-looking Cardassian student nurses who got on a floor after him, chatting in accents that told him their origins were far from the city. They nodded back without pausing their conversation. 

“Is Doctor Ekta really keeping company with Doctor Sarto?” 

“Oh, yes, absolutely! Bovan told me they’d reached secondary stage, even.”

How satisfying to hear. It seemed Sarto had heeded his counsel. 

“No! So humans do find Cardassians attractive?”

“Of course they do. It’s the other way around I can’t understand. I like someone with proper neck ridges!”

“Some humans are quite nice. Even without ridges.” 

“Ha.” The taller one chaffed the other affectionately. “Which humans? Doctor Bashir?”

“For example,” said the other one, mock-coyly. It was clear this was a conversation they’d had before. “He has a lovely neck. But who knows if he likes Cardassians?”

“You might be in luck, poppet. He does. I found out that he was keeping company with a Cardassian, but the man broke it off.”

Uff. What a blow. Garak knew that wasn’t true, but the very thought made the walls of the lift loom in a little. He took a few measured breaths to steady himself.

“Are you certain? What kind of blind fool would break up with Doctor Bashir?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, but that’s what Bovan said. Doctor Bashir had a Cardassian partner who he’d meet for lunch all the time, but Bovan says he hasn’t seen the man in ages.”

“Reeeally?”

“He also said that Doctor Bashir’s been really upset over it, poor petal. Moping and eating alone.” A cheeky shoulder nudge. “Maybe he’d appreciate a little comfort.”

Was that the floor of the lift shuddering just a little under his feet, or was he imagining it?

“Computer, stop the lift at the next floor.” Enough. Even a novice gatherer of intelligence knew that gossip was unreliable, but also that it was important to pay heed to the potential kernel of truth at the centre, no matter how far-fetched. Garak’s stomach roiled with annoyance, both at Julian’s gossiping colleagues and at himself for reacting so...irrationally, but his heart clenched and his throat tightened at the thought that he’d neglected Julian so much that it had been noticeable at work. It was just enough to make him feel squashed in the little moving box.

The lift door opened, and he brushed past the two. He had apparently played it cool enough that they had not noticed anything amiss, and continued their conversation. “...what do you mean some humans only like men or only like women? Where’s the sense in that?” 

***

There were only two flights of stairs to climb, and the hospital’s main staircase was wide and open, and Garak was much improved by the time he got to the cafeteria. Even better when he sighted Julian standing across the crowded room, lunch tray in hand. To Garak’s amusement, the two trainee nurses had already found Julian. The three were chatting in a corner and the shorter one’s hand rested lightly on Julian’s forearm. 

Julian saw him first. “Elim!” 

The nurses turned to look. Was _yerUkt’a_ going out of style on the new Cardassia, Garak wondered, because both looked dismayed to see him. The shorter one’s hand withdrew with a flash, as if Julian had been suddenly transformed into white-hot metal.

“Julian, my dear,” Garak effused, a touch more affectionate than he usually was in public, and as Julian’s hands were both occupied with his tray, pecked him on the cheek, Earth-style, instead of the more Cardassian hand-press. Kissing was quite _en vogue_ on Cardassia these days, since the Federation had arrived, and unless these young trainees had truly arrived only yesterday from the back end of nowhere, they would no doubt understand the significance. Not that he was so petty as to want to get at them for gossiping about Julian. Or to mark his territory. No, no, it wasn’t that! But it would do these worthy young people good to be reminded to be more aware of their surroundings. Who knows what kind of dangerous person they could innocently expose themselves to next time? 

He positioned himself a hair closer to Julian than was acceptable in polite society and set his hand on Julian’s forearm. Tilting his head to one side, he grinned ‘amiably’ at the nurses. “I don’t believe I’ve met your colleagues.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gossip is welcome here! Comments even more so, so please leave one!


	6. Mad About You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garak apologises to Julian. Sort of.

“What was that about?” Julian shifted his tray so that Garak’s could fit on the cafeteria’s narrow table. “They looked like they were afraid you’d eat them. And I haven’t seen you use your ‘plain, simple tailor’ face in ages.” Julian’s eyes widened. “Unless...those two aren’t from your past, are they?” Even though they were in a quiet corner of the cafeteria, and even though everyone knew what Garak’s former job had been, it was prudent not to use the ‘OO’ phrase in public. ‘From your past’ was their preferred euphemism. “No, of course they aren’t. They’re far too young.” Julian dismissed the notion with a shake of his head.

“Don’t be fooled by their apparent youth,” Garak said automatically. He considered telling Julian that the two had in fact been involved in some espionage romp or other. It’d been a while since he’d spun a good yarn for Julian, and now that he was staying over at Garak’s most nights, it couldn’t hurt the relationship to weave a little mystery in. But no, Julian had to work with these two, and it was really a bit too far-fetched, anyway. Though a younger and more guileless Julian would certainly have been taken in. 

“No! You’re not serious, Elim.”

Though perhaps naïveté did not always diminish with age and experience. Still, there was the other factor to consider. 

“Indeed, I’m not. I’m sorry to disappoint you, dear, but it’s nothing as interesting as that. Your young friends had simply realised that they ought to be more careful about who’s in earshot when they gossip in lifts.”

Julian wasn’t disappointed in the least. He grinned, his eyes bright. “Is that all? Who were they gossiping about?” 

“Why do you assume it’s someone you know?” There, an appropriate dab of intrigue. 

“How arrogant of me,” Julian laughed. “Some fascinating person unknown to me but with a scintillating personal life, obviously.” This was punctuated with a jab of his fork.

“Obviously, Julian. If you must know, Trainee Kokat is quite taken with one of the human doctors, and was advised by Trainee Yattang that this doctor had recently ended a relationship with a Cardassian and might not be averse to some new companionship.”

“But I know all the human doctors…oh, it was me, wasn’t it? Is that what people are saying about us?” Julian’s face clouded over.

“I really wouldn’t care to repeat the name of the human doctor in question. I’m sure we both know better than to engage in or believe idle gossip, Julian. But if I may speculate, it is possible that this human doctor’s partner became a little too…engaged in one aspect of his duty and neglected another, perhaps more important, aspect,” he reached across the table and squeezed Julian’s hand, “leading some of the human doctor’s colleagues to believe that he was quite upset because his relationship had ended.”

“Hmmmm. One of those colleagues wouldn’t happen to be Nurse Bovan, would it?” Julian’s tone was wry. 

“Perhaps. I did hear that name, but I have no way of knowing what the Bovan in question’s job title is. He does seem to be a talkative sort of person.”

“Yes, he sounds it. A little dramatic, too. I suspect the human doctor may have just been tired one day or something. I doubt he was so distraught at his partner’s dedication to his duties that he was languishing over it at work. He probably finds it just as endearing as it is worrying, to be honest.”

“Just the same, the partner ought to have realised that his work was also affecting the human doctor.”

“The human doctor probably was more worried about his partner’s health than anything else. Though it’s possible he even missed his partner a little, too.” He smiled fondly at Garak over their trays of vegetable stew and yamok sauce. “I would have.” 

“I suspect perhaps the partner missed the human doctor, too.”

“It’s amazing how much insight you have into these people’s relationship, Elim,” Julian laughed. 

“It is a bit, isn’t it?” Garak gave Julian his best ‘enigmatic innocence’ smile. “I suppose I’m just perceptive.”

“That must be it. So tell me about the proposal! Your message said the Council accepted it?” 

“Yes, without reservations. I’ve already formed the committee and we should be ready to receive the Jobays and begin training the first group of barbers and hairdressers within the month.” 

“Elim, that’s fantastic!”

“It is, rather.” 

“I suppose as head of the committee you’ll be auditing some of the training sessions?” 

“You are a font of brilliant ideas, my dear. Cardassia thanks you for your contributions. And it happens that Jobay Den has a triple process technique that should certainly be investigated by _someone_ in the government. 

“‘Triple process’? That sounds...high-priority.”

“It certainly is. In fact, you ought to come with me.” Garak gazed deliberately at Julian’s thick, dark hair. “Have you ever thought about colouring, my dear? A touch of caramel would really bring out the warmth in your skin tone.”

“Well. Actually, I went through a blond phase my first year at the Academy.” Julian blushed and looked down at his food, then back at Garak. “And you are _never_ seeing the holos.”

“How unfortunate,” said Garak, declining to mention that he’d easily uncovered more visual evidence of _that_ terrible decision than he’d really ever cared to, and years ago. “Why blond, Julian? It can’t have done anything for you.”

“Oh, there was a girl. And I thought it was very chic at the time. You know how it can be...”

“Not really, no,” Garak responded airily. 

“Well, anyway, I’ll think about it.”

“Do. I’m sure Trainee Kokat will adore it.” It felt good to tease Julian again. Garak realised that he hadn’t done it, not properly, in quite some time.

“Ha! Should I trust you about the colour? You might be trying to sabotage my chances with Kokat. Maybe I’ll go back to blond.”

“Do what you please. It’s your hair. I really couldn’t claim to have any investment in it.” 

Julian smiled at the obvious lie. Garak could see the wheels turning in his head, determining just how far to go with the rebuttal. Their teasing flirtation was now verging on unprofessional. Not obscene by any means, fine in public at a park or cafe, but nearing inappropriate at one’s place of work. Although of course as an off-worlder Julian enjoyed a bit more leeway in these things, and there was that vexing rumour to be put paid to. Maybe a little ostentatious flirting was justified. 

It was Julian’s call.

“Mr Garak. Despite your unwarranted jealousy, I know you to be very much invested in my hair, both personally and as a representative of the Cardassian people. So as a gesture of goodwill, I offer myself as your guinea pig in your hands-on inspection of Jobay Den’s triple process technique.” 

Garak inclined his head. 

“Once again, Cardassia thanks you for your service, Doctor.” 

“I’m very brave.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far. What’s that phrase your people have? ‘A big head’?” Their conversation has been in Kardasi until now, but Garak switched to Federation Standard for the idiom. 

Julian snort-laughed.

“I should be more selective about the phrases I teach you.”

“I didn’t learn that from you,” Garak continued in Standard. “You’re not my only human, you know.” 

Surprise - and jealousy? - flashed across Julian’s face. Perfect. 

“What do you mean, ‘you’re not my only human’? Who else is ‘your human’?”

Definitely jealousy. 

“Hmmmm? Oh, my dear, perhaps I was thinking in Kardasi. I simply meant I have social intercourse with other humans.” He reached across to touch Julian’s arm. “You’re my only special human.” 

Now aware he was being fondly toyed with, Julian flashed a relieved grin. 

“After all you’ve put me through, I had better be your only special human, Elim Garak.” 

“Believe me, dear, I wouldn’t have the time or energy for two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, kudosing, and commenting. It's been a trip!
> 
> I went back and named all the chapters. There's a theme. I hope you like it!
> 
> And please be my special human (or whatever species you are) and leave a comment?


	7. Epilogue - The Honeymooners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are all fine, everything's a success, and Julian looks great. Everybody wins, especially Cardassia.

The evening was drawing to a close. Even Al-Ghamdi had gone home. Parmak had just said his goodnights and left them sitting alone at a table at the back of the rapidly emptying hall, both a bit squiffy from the Barolo the groom’s parents had brought over from the family vineyard in Piedmont. Not to mention liberal lashings of wedding kanar.

“What exactly is the purpose of the ‘honeymoon’?”

“What do you think, Elim? The couple go away so that they can spend time together. They usually have a lot of sex.” Julian blushed to the roots of his barely-caramel-toned hair. It wasn’t that he was a prude, but to discuss what went on during a typical honeymoon at Sarto and Ekta’s wedding made it feel like he was talking about _them_. “Don’t Cardassians have a similar tradition?” 

“In some regions, yes, I suppose. But most people just stay at home for a week or two. I admit I don’t see what travel has to do with successful conception.”

“Elim, I said they have sex. The aim is not necessarily to conceive a child straight away!”

“Ah. Then our tradition is different.”

“Apparently. But can we please talk about something else?”

“Of course, Julian. Just name the topic.”

“It was a very short courtship. They weren’t even on a first-name basis six months ago. Is that usual for Cardassians?”

“Generally, yes. We don’t like to waste time.”

Julian frowned. 

“Then, why aren’t _we_ married yet?”

Surprise flashed across Garak’s face, then delight. 

“Is that something you’d like, dear?”

Thoughtfully, if a little tipsily, Julian ran his finger up and down the stem of his glass.

“Well, yes. I think I would.”

“We can talk about it, then.” Garak’s fingers entwined Julian’s. “Are you still staying over tonight?”

“Oh, I think so. Your place is closer than mine, so it’d be silly not to.”

“Impeccable logic. Are we permitted to leave now?”

“By Earth etiquette? Definitely. I don’t think we even need to say goodbye to anyone.”

“Ah, my dear Julian,” said Garak as they rose from the table, “it’s always delightful when our cultures are in accordance. Let’s go home.” Garak pressed his hand to the small of Julian’s back and drew him close. “Because I’d like to inseminate you tonight, and I’d like to do it at the earliest opportunity.” 

Julian nearly choked on his wine. 

“What an offer,” he spluttered when he was able to speak again. “Mr Garak, you are definitely drunk.” 

“Perhaps. What of it? Are you ready to go?”

“Yes. Lead on.” Julian knocked back the last of his drink and set the empty glass on the table. He took Garak’s proffered arm and leaned in towards his ear. “And I’m certainly happy to have you inseminate me tonight, but I’m sorry to tell you I don’t think it’ll lead to a successful conception.”

“How unfortunate. Are you certain?”

“Fairly.”

“You do have some expertise, I suppose.”

“I know a thing or two. But we could keep trying. No harm in trying. Cardassia needs us to try.”

“For Cardassia, then.”

“For Cardassia.”

***

“Please try to walk a little faster, Julian. I’d like to start this noble work for Cardassia as soon as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the problems are solved and we've learned a few lessons. Until next time!
> 
> I still love your comments, so please don’t be shy!


End file.
